


The Hawthorne Effect

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Pictures, Exhibitionism, Fellatio, Filming, Gender Neutral Self Insert, Multi, Polyamory, Self Insert, Swallowing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Things change when they're being watched. Not that they don't always like being watched....





	The Hawthorne Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NBmess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NBmess/gifts).



You and Tyler are drinking together when he spills the beans.

Well, he's not really drinking - he's always very careful about his alcohol consumption, what with one thing and another, but he's taken an occasional sip of your drink, and you're in that easy, lazy spot you get somewhere, when there's enough booze flowing through you to make you loose and relaxed, but not enough that you end up wanting to be sick.

"You're, like, a god among men. You know that, right?"

You gesture at Tyler in one long languorous movement, your hands behind your head.

You stretch, and your rest your feet in his lap.

He snorts, and he squeezes your feet, cracking your toes.

You curl your toes around his fingers, and he slides his finger between two of them.

You squeeze it.

"I'm not a god," he says.

"You look like you should be... naked, sculpted out of bronze, holding a discus."

He snorts, looking amused.

"You think so?"

"Apart from, uh... apart from the fact that your dick is too big."

He raises an eyebrow.

"My dick is too big," he says, his tone flat.

"Yeah," you say. "See, uh... see, the Greeks, they thought that a big dick was a sign of someone being a barbarian. A really _refined_ penis would be small, because... because it's, uh... it's not all over the place. It's not just _there_ , you know?"

"Not really, no," he says.

"So really," you continue, "you've go the best of both worlds!"

"Isn't that a Hannah Montana song?"

"How do _you_ know a Hannah Montana song?"

You squint at him, suspicious, but trying not to start cackling.

It's been a long week, and the booze and the affection are a bit like a pressure release valve.

Truth be told, you've barely had much in the way of booze - you're just _tired_.

"I can't have layers?"

"You can totally have layers," you tell Tyler, "but that wasn't a layer I was expecting."

"What am I, a tree?"

"You're about the size of a tree," you agree. "But if you were a tree, you'd have rings, not layers."

He snorts.

"Ogres have layers," he said, in a bad Mike Meyers impression, and you cackle harder, hard enough that you're just about to fall off of the chair.

His big hands move to your legs, holding on to your calves, as if that would be enough to keep you from falling off of your seat.

He pats your leg, and you sigh, leaning back into the chair.

"But yeah," you say. "You look like some kind of Greek god."

"I'm not a Greek god," he says. "Among other things, I'm not Greek."

You snicker. 

He pats you on the shin.

"You could be a god who's not Greek?"

"That's very Neil Gaiman of you," he says, and his expression is fond.

"You don't strike me as much of a Gaiman reader," you say to him.

"I like him well enough," he says. "What, you thought I was just some dumb jock?"

"No, no, I didn't say that," you tell him quickly. "I didn't mean that at all. Sorry."

He grins at you.

"I'm teasing," he says.

"I can't always tell when you're teasing me," you complain. "You're really good at the whole "deadpan expression" thing."

"I have to be good at something, don't I?"

"You're good at plenty of things," you argue. 

He raises an eyebrow.

"You are," you continue. "You're hot, you're funny, you're sweet, you're nice...."

"And you're a charmer," he says lightly.

You lean back into your chair, stretching, your toes pointing, rolling your ankle carefully.

He squeezes your foot, gently.

"Do you have a foot fetish?"

It just pops out of your mouth.

You weren't really... planning to say it, but when you're this tired (and this level of mildly inebriated) you tend to just... say whatever pops into your head.

"What? No!"

He bursts out laughing, still holding on to your foot.

"Are you sure? Because if you have a foot fetish, I'd be totally okay with you having a foot fetish."

"I don't doubt that you'd be perfectly okay with me having a foot fetish," he tells you, and he's still grinning, "but that doesn't mean I've got one."

"Are you sure? You don't have to be ashamed of your foot fetish!"

"... what got you on this tangent in the first place?"

"Because you're being all cuddly with my feet," you tell him.

"Well, yes," he says, "because you like it when I do that. I like to make you feel good."

"Any way I'd ask for?"

"Not _any_ way," he says. "I've got my limits, obviously."

"Obviously," you agree.

"But no," he says, "I don't have a foot fetish."

"Right," you say. "You just like touching my feet?"

"I like touching all of the parts of you that like to be touched," he tells you, "whether it's your foot or your back or your scalp or... whatever."

You nod.

That does make sense.

Tyler is such a giver, and you're pretty sure that you could ask him for anything, and he'd be willing to give it to you. 

Although....

"So what's your kink?"

"Hm?"

"Your kink," you say to him. "What's your kink?"

"What makes you think that I've got a kink?"

"Everyone's got a kink."

"Someone out there has to not have a kink," Tyler says. 

"Then not having any kind of kink in and of itself is a kink," you pronounce, as if from on high.

He snorts.

"I think you're over thinking this a little bit," he says to you.

"You know I'm not," you counter.

"If you say so," he says, and he's looking faintly sheepish.

... shit, are you being a jerk?

You don't want to be a jerk.

"Are you okay? Sorry, I'm being a total douche."

You take your feet out of his lap, and you sit up fully.

"No, no," he says.

You stand up, carefully, and then you straddle his lap, equally carefully.

You cup his face, pressing your forehead into his.

"You don't have to tell me anything," you tell him, your tone solemn, "but I'd really like to know. If, uh, if you're comfortable sharing."

"Right," he says.

His hands are on your hips, and he squeezes them, gently.

You sigh, relaxing into him, and he nuzzles his face into your neck, his face faintly stubbly and rough against the delicate skin.

You squirm in his lap, and he makes a pleasure noise, pressing his hips forward, just a bit.

He's got an erection - or at least, the beginnings of an erection.

His cock is clearly thinking about it, through those thin basketball shorts of his.

You grind against it purposefully, and he moans, a sweet, drawn out sound.

"I'd like to tell you," he says, and then he has a hand on the back of your head, his palm curved around the back of your skull. "It's just... like I said, it's embarrassing."

You lean forward and you kiss him, tasting his breath, tracing your tongue over his teeth, then sucking on his tongue, your chest pressed against his.

He sighs, his hands moving down along your back, and you shudder, arching into him, your own hands going to his hair, tangling in it. 

He sighs into your mouth, melting into the kiss, and he presses as close as he can, panting.

He's rolling his hips, and he's sweaty against your palms, which is fine, this is all... this is all fucking great.

You're so turned on that you're having trouble thinking straight, arousal pounding through you like a migraine, your chest rising and falling with every breath that you take, filling your lungs with air, as he sucks on your tongue, his hands moving to your ass and holding tight.

You grind your hips forward, and you moan against his mouth, as he moans back.

"So what's your secret?"

You grind forward, your own arousal apparent, and he presses his face into your neck and mumbles something.

"Mm?"

You pull his head back, so that he's looking into your face.

He looks up into your face, and he's very pink - from arousal, from anxiety, from embarrassment?

Regardless, it's a look that suits him.

"I... I like being watched," he says, his voice quiet.

"Like, while you're having sex?"

"Yeah," he says, his voice very quiet. "I like the idea of someone watching me having sex."

"Why?"

You slide your hand down into his shorts, squeezing him through his boxers, and he moans, his hips rolling forward, nearly unseating you.

"Because... god, it's fuckin' embarrassing," Tyler mumbles.

You slide off of his lap, and you slide your thumbs under his waistband, shoving his boxers and shorts right off of him, wrapping your hand around his cock and squeezing it.

He whines, a long drawn out noise, and you begin to jerk him off, slow and lazy, spreading his pre-cum across his shaft.

He's moaning like he's in pain as you do it, and you grin at him, wicked as any villain.

"If you tell me, I'll blow you," you tell him.

"I... I don't want to come off as vain," he says, and it's clear that he's embarrassed to even say that.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Tell me," you say, putting on your best Dominant voice, and he shudders, looking you up and down, his eyes dark.

"Right," he says, and his voice is rough.

He licks his lips, and then he gasps, as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the very tip of his cock, sucking on it carefully, the very tip of your tongue jabbing at the slit of his cock.

"It's hard to think when you do that," he mumbles.

You grin, and you wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing it.

He whines, as you take him in deeper.

"Please?"

You put on your best puppy dog eyes, and then you take him deeper into your mouth, and you suck on him, suck on him hard enough that he gives a noise suspiciously like a _growl_ , his back arching, his hand heavy on the top of your head.

"Okay," he says, and he shudders, a full body shudder. "Okay."

"Mmm?"

You try to make an encouraging noise around the dick in your mouth.

"I... I like knowing people find me attractive," he mumbles.

You take your mouth off of his cock, holding it in your fist and jerking him off lazily. 

"I'll tell you what," you say to him, "keep talking, and I'll keep sucking you off."

"... okay," he says, and he groans, his toes curling against the floor. "Fine. Fine, yes, let's do that. Sure."

You grin.

You can really get his filthy mouth going, when you play your cards right.

He sighs, and then he shudders, his mouth falling open again, his hips rolling forward. 

"It's because... it's because I, uh, I work so hard on looking... on looking good, because it's so... it's something I'm proud of. The way I look, I mean. Because I... oh, fuck, yes, right there, keep doing... that, fuck!"

You grin, and you swallow around him again.

"But, uh... so. Um. Okay. Because... because people like... people aren't supposed to want to be looked at because they think they're attractive. I don't want to come off as, y'know, full of myself, I don't want people to think I think I'm better than they are, because... oh, yeah, there, _there_!"

You do it again, your tongue tracing little figure eights right under the head of his cock, and his hips hitch forward.

"I just... work so hard on being strong. On being fit. I like knowing it's... appreciated, and I've always just... liked being looked at. I like being... I like being seen, I like how it makes me feel, to know that I'm wanted, that someone gets off on it, I want someone to _see_ , please, don't stop, don't... fucking... stop!"

You bob your head, making wet, dirty noises with your mouth and your throat, and he thrashes against you, not pushing on your head, just holding on tightly.

He's shuddering, his mouth open, and he's breathing hard enough that you're faintly worried that he's going to have some kind of anxiety attack.

He keeps babbling, about being seen, about being looked at - you start to tune it out, the third time he repeats himself, but the cadence of his voice is soothing and sexy at the same time - you want to begin to touch yourself, but then you'd have to let go of his thighs, which... no.

They're getting harder under your hands, and he's beginning to roll his hips faster.

"I'm gonna cum," he bursts out. "Please, please, I'm going to cum, please!"

"Mmm?"

"I'm gonna... if you don't want me to cum in your mouth, you need to... you... oh, _fuck_!"

He cums down your throat.

You swallow it down, even though you find it kind of gross, but you know that it always gets him going, and sure enough, he moans, his whole body clearly still on edge, clinging to you like it's the end of the world.

He's covered in a faint sheen of sweat, and he's looking down at you, his eyes wide.

"Holy fuck," he says, his voice rough.

You pull off of him, kissing the very tip of his cock, just to watch him shudder, and you smile at him.

"How was that?"

Your voice is a little rough from having your throat brushed like that, but it's fine.

You love the look on his face.

"Fuck," he says, and he's still shaking.

Then he's pulling you up into his lap, bodily lifting you, and his hand is down your pants, right where it's appreciated.

You moan against his mouth, and you roll your hips, grinding into his hand as his fingers make you see colors behind your eyes.

"I want you to watch me," he says, right in your ear. "I want you to watch me with someone. I want to know that seeing me makes you horny."

You groan, and you twitch, clutching at his shoulders with both hands, no doubt wrinkling his shirt, your hips rolling into his hand.

"I want to fuck you while someone watches us," he says, right against your mouth, and then he's kissing you. "God, fuck, it's... I've gotten off to it so many times, I want to do it, I want to... I want it so badly, please....." 

You grind into his hand, your face still in his neck, clinging like a koala, and then you’re going entirely stiff, as your orgasm washes over you, wetting his fingers, getting your own pants sticky.

He makes an amused noise, and he presses a kiss to your sweaty temple.

“So you’re into the idea too, then?”

His voice is faintly teasing.

“Could be fun,” you say, your voice still rough.

He snorts. 

You sigh, a long sound, and you cuddle into him.

He rubs your back, still holding you, and you relax into it. 

“We should tell Mark,” you tell him, your voice quiet.

He goes very still at that.

“You think Mark would be into that?”

“I mean,” you say, “it can’t hurt, can it?”

“I guess not,” he says, because… well, the three of you have some kind of something going on.

You haven’t actually gotten to the point of any kind of full blown threesome, but you’ve all paired off in variations of groups of two.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you tell Tyler, a bit of guilt already beginning to crawl along your back, to join the drips of sweat. 

“Nah,” says Tyler. “If I’m gonna have a guy’s dick in my mouth, I might as well tell him some of my kinks, right?”

“... I can’t really argue with that logic,” you admit.

“Because it’s impeccable,” he tells you. “Although, uh… if you’d be okay telling him, I’d be okay with that too.”

“Are you sure? It’s your kink. I don’t want to step on any toes.”

“No toes will be stepped on,” he promises. “I promise.”

“Well,” you say, “if you say so. I trust you.”

“I do,” he says. “Say so, I mean.”

You snort, and you kiss him on the mouth - a quick peck of the lips.

He blushes, but looks pleased.

* * *

You and Mark are hanging out a few days later.

Tyler is off with a few friends, doing who even knows what - probably something fitness related, or sending out inspirational tweets.

Mark has your head in his lap, and he’s petting your head, gently.

You sigh, relaxing into it, as his fingers pass over your scalp, occasionally straying to trace the line of your profile, or pass over your eyebrows.

“You know,” Mark says, “if you ever wanted to watch me and Tyler fucking, I’d be okay with that.”

You freeze up, and you’re blushing, just a bit.

“That came out of nowhere,” you tell him.

“Sorry,” he says, and you look up at him.

Even upside down, he looks faintly sheepish.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve kinda just been trying to figure out a way to bring it up, since Tyler mentioned his exhibitionist… thing,” says Mark. “But I didn’t want to say it in front of Tyler, for obvious reasons.

“Right,’ you say. 

“But… yeah. I like the idea of you watching,” he says, and he sounds faintly embarrassed.

You recognize the familiar pink tinge to his cheeks, and you have a feeling if you roll over, you’ll see that he’s getting hard in his pants.

“Are you a bit of an exhibitionist as well?”

You’re teasing, but there is some genuine curiosity involved, too. 

That would be kind of funny - another one of those moments when you realize that you’ve got a _type_ , albeit not an obvious one.

“Yeah,” he says, and he clears his throat. “I thought all the times I’ve gotten nearly naked or spanked or generally just doing ridiculous things on camera might have been a clue.”

“I thought you might just like the attention,” you say. “Not necessarily an exhibitionist.”

“Fair enough,” Mark says. “I mean, I don’t think I’m quite the same level as Tyler, but then again, I’m not quite as gorgeous as he is.”

You roll your eyes, because neither of them are really aware of just how pretty they are to begin with.

It can be faintly annoying sometimes, although you’d never actually tell them that, because everyone has their insecurities, and it’s obnoxious to tell people off for them.

Still.

“You’re both drop dead gorgeous,” you tell him firmly.

“But yeah,” he says. “I’d, uh… I’d be okay watching you guys. Or being watched by you.”

“Right,” you say. 

You lick your lips, and then you grin.

“Would that count as our first official threesome as a triad?”

“... you know, I’m not sure,” he says, and he looks thoughtful. “I guess it would if you joined in?”

“But if I joined in, I wouldn’t be watching,” you point out. “I’d be an active participant.”

“Would you be?”

“Oh yeah,” you say. “Very active.”

He snorts, and he pats you on the head.

You tilt your face up to be kissed, and he bends forward, nearly smothering you, but he kisses you, a sweet, chaste kiss.

If you want to properly kiss him, you’re going to have to sit up properly, but… well, you’re way too comfortable right where you are.

He’s good with his hands, and just… being here, relaxing, having his scent in your nose and the faint sounds of his stomach against your ear is relaxing.

“So why do you like being watched?”

Your voice is on its way to sleepy.

He shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe it’s just habit at this point.”

“Habit?”

“I document so many other parts of my life,” says Mark, “or at least… I’m viewed for most of the other parts of my life, apart from the really private ones.” 

You nod.

And then Mark is grinning.

“I’ve got a wicked idea,” he says.

“I am very much pro wicked ideas,” you tell him, your tone earnest. 

He tries to reach for his phone, but you’re lying on top of it.

“Can you text him and tell him to send you a nude?”

“A nude?”

“Yeah. Since he likes to be watched. Maybe ask for a clip of him jerking off in a bathroom or something?”

You lick your lips - that definitely sounds like a fun idea, no two ways about it.

You rub your hands together, and you grab your phone, reaching into your pocket to pull it out, and then you text Tyler a quick message.

_I want to see you jacking off. Show me your face and your cock._

You get a response a few minutes later.

_Give me, like, twenty minutes. We just started eating._

You send him a thumbs up emoji back, and you squirm.

You’re beginning to get turned on - from the power trip of being able to tell him what to do (and knowing that he’ll do it), and from… well, you’re doing something pervy with your boyfriend and your other boyfriend, and in what world is that not hot?

You sigh, and you sit up, so that you and Mark are both more or less leaning on each other.

“He’ll send it soon,” you tell Mark. 

“Right,” says Mark, and he clears his throat, shifting.

He’s clearly hard - you can see it now.

Your own arousal is pretty apparent, what with one thing and another, and you’re licking your lips, trying not to jiggle your leg or squirm too much in general.

You lean against Mark, and you try to pay attention to the movie.

* * *

Your phone buzzes, and you reach for it a lot faster than you probably should, nearly dropping it. 

You unlock it, and then you blush.

Oh wow.

Yeah, that’s… that’s most definitely Tyler’s cock.

Then the next picture arrives, and it’s a picture of Tyler’s face, pink, biting his lower lip, and his eyes are glassy.

The restaurant lighting is just this side of dim, and it makes him look even more alluring, the shadows cast by his patrician features like something out of an expressionist film.

Then your phone buzzes _again_ , and it’s a little video clip.

You open it up, to see… Tyler’s hand, moving up and down his cock, the sound of his panting loud.

You lick your lips, squirming, and then Mark is moaning.

You look over, and you see that he’s squeezing himself through his pants.

You smirk.

“Pervert,” you tease him.

“As if you’re any better,” he says, and then he’s got a hand down between _your_ legs, pressing right where it’s appreciated, and you moan, your hips rolling.

“Take a picture and send it to him,” Mark says, his voice thick.

You aim the camera down, and you send it to him - you send him a picture of your own hand on Mark’s crotch, curved around Mark’s cock, for an added bonus.

A minute later, Tyler sends you another video - it’s shaking this time, but it’s very clearly his cock, shooting cum across his own fist, his hands shaking. 

Then the video turns around, and it’s Tyler’s face.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice quiet, clearly trying not to disturb anyone else in the bathroom. 

He looks… embarrassed, but still stupidly horny. “You guys are pervert.”

You grin, and you send him a heart emoji.

He sends you one back.

“Now,” says Mark, “how about we… deal with our own problem?”

He raises an eyebrow, and he’s getting between your legs even as he does it.

“Do you want me to film you?”

You ask it innocently enough, but he flushes, and he nods.

He slides his fingers under your waistband, and he slides your pants and your underwear down and off, leaving you completely bare.

He looks up into the camera, and he mugs, which makes you roll your eyes.

Then your eyes roll back into your head, because he’s got his mouth on you, and he’s doing things with his tongue that are making you see the stars that are perpetually hidden by the LA light pollution.

It takes effort not to force his face right where you want it, but you ride it gamely - you ride his face gamely, your hips rolling, your heels digging into his back, your thighs spreading wider, your mouth falling open.

You cum in his mouth, and he laps it up, moaning and making pleased sounds.

“Fuck,” you say, and you’re shaking.

“Can I cum on your belly?”

He looks faintly embarrassed.

“Sure,” you say, licking your lips. “If you want to, I mean.”

“... can you film me while I jerk off?”

You snort, but you grin at him.

“You dirty exhibitionist, you,” you tell him, but you manage to get the camera on your phone facing the right way with your shaking hands, resting it on your stomach, tilting it up towards his face.

“Thanks,” he says, and he licks his lips, his eyes wide.

You film him, as he doubles over, his hips rocking forward, fucking his fist. and you keep the camera trained on his face, keep the camera trained on his cock.

He’s shaking.

"Do it," you tell him. "Do it, cum for me, do it!"

He sobs, his hand speeding up, and then he's pressing his knees against yours, and he's cumming, right across his fist, over onto your belly - thank god you remembered to pull your shirt up.

You watch him, and you lick your lips.

Fuck, he's so gorgeous.

"Do you want me to send the video to Tyler?"

You glance sidelong at Mark, your eyebrow up.

He flushes, but he nods.

"Send both of 'em," he says. "We might as well go whole hog, right?"

"Indeed," you say. 

* * *

The next two weeks are busy.

It happens like that - you have a few free days, and then nothing but work for a few weeks, until you can't even remember what it feels like to have leisure time.

You're coming home from a long day at work when you notice that both Mark and Tyler are at home. 

It's been a while since all three of you have been in one location at the same time - you really should do something fun.

Maybe go out to dinner, or at least order in?

Not that you don't like Tyler's cooking, but... well, doing something nice, right?

You sigh, kicking your shoes off, but then you notice how quiet it is.

It's not usually this quiet - Mark and Tyler are usually bantering, or gaming, or doing... well, something.

But no.

It's quiet.

Quiet but for a soft noise. 

... huh.

Maybe you're overthinking this a little bit, but... what if you're not?

You make your way towards the noise, quietly, trying to make sure your steps are quiet, trying to make sure you're not even breathing too loudly.

And you find... a wide open bedroom door.

You, Mark, and Tyler all have your own bedrooms - you may be a triad, but everyone still needs their own space, after all.

You lick your lips, rubbing your hands together, and you peek your head around the door, to find... Mark blowing Tyler.

Tyler is moaning, low, deep moaning, his head thrown back.

He's sitting on the bed, his hands in Mark's hair, his head thrown back.

Mark is on his knees on the floor, and he's bobbing his head, sucking Tyler's cock.

It's really a lot more than that - there's a level of _artistry_ to it, enough that it's clearly making Tyler's eyes roll back in his head, his hips rolling forward.

You must make some kind of noise, because Tyler's eyes open, and he meets yours.

He flushes, but he grins.

"God, Mark," Tyler says, "your mouth, it feels so good, fuck...."

You bite your lip, and you shift, pressing your thighs together.

You're already getting aroused - you want to slide your hand into your pants, begin to rub.

You want to make yourself feel good, watching the two of them.

Especially since Tyler seems downright energized, beginning to thrust into Mark's mouth with renewed vigor.

"Mark, your mouth on my cock, it's so hot and wet, you feel so... good, oh, fuck, yes, don't stop...."

Mark pulled back, wiping his hand on the back of his mouth, and he looks up at Tyler, one eyebrow up.

"You've gotten mouthy," he says.

"We've got an audience," Tyler says, and his eyes are dark with arousal - he's practically shaking as he says it.

"Do we, now?"

Mark's tone is mild, and he grins at you when he makes eye contact with you, taking Tyler's cock in his face and giving a long, sweet stroke.

Tyler shudders, his head falling back, and his hips rock forward.

"Fuck," Tyler mumbles.

"I know, right," Mark says. "Fuck."

"You guys are just going back and forth," you tell them. "You're gonna get stuck in a feedback loop."

"Well," Mark says, and he's smirking. "What would _you_ suggest, then?"

"Um," you say. 

Crap.

"Um?"

"You guys should make out," you say, because fuck it, if you're going to be a creepy letch, you might as well go all out and be a creepy letch. 

"Hmmm?"

"You should make out. I want to watch you make out."

"Do you, now?"

"Oh yeah," you say, and you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I mean," Tyler says, "since you're asking so nicely...."

He indicates for Mark to stand up, and then he takes Mark's face in his hands, and he kisses Mark.

He kisses Mark like they're on the cover of a romance novel, and your heart is beating in your chest, your mouth dry.

Fuck, but they're just so _pretty_ together.

Tyler is moaning into Mark's mouth, pulling Mark closer, and then Mark is straddling Tyler's lap.

"Jerk each other off," you say, and wow, but it's heady, to be telling them what to do.

To have them _listening_ to you telling them what to do, as you slide your own hand into your work pants, beginning to rub yourself.

You lick your lips, shifting, but still rubbing, licking your lips.

You watch their hands as they begin to stroke each other - they're both naked, and god, but that's a lot of gorgeous, sweaty skin on display.

You keep your hand in your pants, and you rub, as your fingers get wetter, as your own hips roll.

You watch their faces - their eyes keep darting towards your face, then towards your hand, and they're both moaning, mumbling half heard bits of filth at each other, because... well, fuck.

This is, quite possibly, one of the most kinky things you've ever done.

You aren't complaining though, because holy fuck, it's just... fuck!

You're being reduced to obscenities, which is probably a sign that you're close, or they're close, or... something.

Someone is going to have an orgasm.

Tyler is the one who cums first, which makes sense - he was getting that super intense blowjob, after all. 

Tyler cums across his own hand, across Mark's hand, all over his own belly, and you're sobbing as your own orgasm washes over you, leaving you weak in the knees.

You flop onto the floor, staring up at the two of them.

Mark cums last, and he cums across Tyler's belly, using Tyler's cum as lube.

It's filthy and debauched, like something out of a certain class of porno,but holy fuck it isn't sexy.

"So," Tyler says from the bed, "are you gonna share your big kink secret next?"

"... eventually," you say, blushing.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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